A Shot of Whisky
by emerald arrow
Summary: Alice never did anything wrong in her life until she coldly murdered 2 Brooklyn newsies and seriously injured another. And she does not regret it whatsoever. SpotFOC
1. Lose Control

The smell of stale incense wafted through her nostrils as she leaned hard against the back of the pew in front of her with her knees solidly planted on the cold stone of the church floors. Her head was bowed with her wild, black mane of hair falling into her face. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly despite the fact that she had her hands clasped in front of her face, and her eyes were shut so tight that one would believe she never intended to open them again. Her breathe was ragged as she braced herself to whisper the prayer which had laid upon lips ever since she had concocted her little plan and set it into motion. But, tonight, there was extra fervor to her words fore it was now the moment of truth.

"Please, dear God, forgive me for the sins I will commit tonight," she breathed, "Have mercy… my hate springs from love." She then silently lost herself in a mass of Hail Marys to the point where she did not notice the presence of the two approaching young men until they were calmly knelt on either side of her. She felt a gentle, steadying hand on the small of her back and finally opened her forest green eyes to stare ahead at the crucifix on the wall which caused a shiver to run down her spine. Feeling her reaction, the man with his hand on her back sighed.

"Alice, you don't have to do this. It's not too late to back out." Alice considered his words for a moment, took a deep breath to calm her raging emotions, and finally turned to face the friend whom had spoken.

"No, Ghost, I have to. This is the only way to save her." Ghost mutely nodded his head.

"If you insist… everything is in place. Just as you asked." In response, she gave him a slight smile.

"Thank you," she stated before turning to the other man, "and thank you." However, the other young man did not seem as resigned to the plan as Ghost. He grabbed Alice's hand as she made to stand and stared anxiously into her eyes.

"Alice, do not do this. It's too dangerous. And what if you get caught? I'd never forgive myself for helping you with this," he spoke with urgency in his voice. Instead of heeding his warning, she merely smiled ruefully and ruffled his blonde locks.

"What's life without a little danger?" she teased in effort to ease his anxiety over her safety. However, her response did not seem to satisfy him.

"I hope she realizes how good of a friend you are. I hope she appreciates everything you do and are about to do," he stated vehemently. Alice merely sighed in response, not knowing herself whether Olivia truly would appreciate what she was about to do. Nevertheless, it needed to be done.

"Regardless, this is what I'm going to do. I cannot sleep another night knowing what those vermin do to her." At her light reminder of the catalyst for her actions, he seemed to relent on his opposition to an extent. She took that as her opening to make her move to leave the cramped sanctuary.

"Come on, Pretty Boy, it's time to go." At her words, both men rose and followed her out to the dank streets of the Bronx. The cobblestone was slick from a rainstorm which had occurred that afternoon. Now, the air was thick with the humidity of the evaporating moisture. It was only slightly cut by the cold of the late October weather. The three could see light puffs of white with every exhalation of breath in the forlorn yellow light which emanated from the old street lamps which scattered the rundown street in this less-than-desirable borough of New York City. However, their destination would not look much different from their current surroundings: Brooklyn.

Ghost struck a match on the brick wall of the church and lit the cigarette hanging from his thin lips as they began their long sojourn. She held back a small giggle as Pretty Boy asked to bum a cig from his friend, to which Ghost gave his usual reply of, "Why don't you ever just buy your own?" before shoving him one of his prized cigarettes, as he always did. And, as always, Pretty Boy responded with his usual defensive comeback: "Because I don't smoke." Ghost and Alice both rolled their eyes and laughed. She wondered if Pretty Boy would ever admit to his vice, regardless of the fact that he never actually spent a single cent on it. Her heart swelled with affection for these two men. They were similar, yet altogether different. While both were blonde, Ghost's hair had a darker tint to it than Pretty Boy's yellow strands and he kept it cut shorter than Pretty Boy; while they both had blue eyes, Pretty Boy's danced with a passion for life while Ghost's were encased by dark circles of sleepless nights; and while both possessed lanky frames, Ghost towered over Pretty Boy at 6'3" compared to the latter's 5'9". Both were Bronx newsies. As such, they were supposedly "rough company" for a girl to keep, but they were loyal to a fault and Alice trusted them with her life. Walking through the city streets, she stayed between her boys with either arm looped through their arms.

Lost in silent thought, Alice walked in companionable silence with her friends for several miles. At last, she was pulled out of her reverie when she was halted on both sides next to a dark alley. The second shiver of the night right down her spine. They were in Brooklyn, and it was time. Ghost stayed to watch the street as Pretty Boy took Alice's hand and walked her into the alley to a foreboding-looking back door. He paused before knocking and turned to the girl he held as dear to him as a sister.

"It's still not too late. Tell me right now to walk you home, and I will," he practically begged. For the first time that night, Alice showed some apprehension about the task ahead to her friend.

"W-Will you still look at me the same after I do this?" she implored staring him in the eyes, fearing his response. Pretty Boy seemed to melt as he caught the meaning behind her words.

"No matter what you choose to do, you will always be our same, sweet Alice," he reassured her, sealing the promise with a tight embrace, "We love you." Alice wiped a small, relieved tear from her grateful face as she stepped away from him.

"Good. Then, yes, I must do this," she stated firmly. Pretty Boy nodded, having resigned himself to the fact that Alice was going to go through with this plan of hers, no matter what. He turned his attention back to the door and knocked. After a moment, a burly, greasy man opened the entrance and nodded towards the two of them as they entered.

The musty, old tavern reeked of booze and smoke. The wooden floorboards looked like they hadn't been swept in over a year, and the whole establishment glowed eerily with candlelight which did not reach every crevice and left the nooks and corners shrouded in shadows. This was not a place to which Alice would typically traverse, but it was perfect for her current intention.

They were ushered into a smaller room off to the side, used for private meetings. Inside, the owner was waiting for them. With his grey and balding head, gut, and crows feet around his eyes he appeared to be much older than he probably was. Life on the streets, Alice had noticed, seemed to prematurely age people. The owner leered at Alice causing a queasy feeling in her stomach, before turning to Pretty Boy.

"The payment we agreed upon?" he gruffly demanded. At his words, she reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled several bills from it and handed them to the eager man. After quickly counting the sum, assuring they were not stiffing him, he grunted and smiled disgustingly at her.

"The room is yours for the night to do whatever you want with no interruption. Just clean up after yourselves, and no authorities need be called," he stated while gesturing grandly towards the room with a conspiratorial smile alighting his face. She merely nodded and smiled politely. Pretty Boy stepped forward with his hand outstretched towards the owner.

"You have your payment, we have your word. Pleasure doing business." The owner took Pretty Boy's hand, shook it with a nod, and left them to their own devices with a resolute snap of the door shutting. Alice let out a breath which she had not known she'd been holding, and smiled wanly at Pretty Boy.

"I believe it is time for a wardrobe change, my dear," she grandly stated with feigned airs. He smiled at her ability to still be playful in her current situation.

"The clothes you asked for are over on the far table. I'll turn my back like a good little gentleman," he teased. Alice turned to finally survey the room. There were two small wooden tables, each with two wooden seats. An ancient looking piano forte stood to the back of the room and a small opening to the front of the room: space enough for whatever private entertainment the patrons may choose. The room was lit with only four candles on the walls and tiny candle on the piano for a musician to be able to read his music causing the room to have an even eerier appearance than the main hall of the tavern. Alice smiled to herself. It was perfect.

She approached the large box on the far table which Pretty Boy had indicated, and opened the lid. She pulled out a very suggestive satin dress of emerald. She'd had Ghost pay to borrow it from one of the disgusting brothels he frequented when his bouts of insomnia would not let him sleep. She hated the habit, but she had to admit that she was currently benefiting from it. Swiftly as she could, she changed from her simple street dress into the constricting corset which lay at the bottom of the box and slipped the whore's dress over her head. She was too restricted by the corset to fasten it in the back though. Staying turned from Pretty Boy, she yelled over her shoulder to where he was standing and facing a wall.

"A little help, please?" she requested. Pretty Boy turned to face her, at first a little shocked at her relative state of undress, but quickly walked over as he realized her predicament.

"What would ya do without me?" he pretended to huff as if put out by her.

"Walk around undressed, I suppose," she deadpanned back, to which he laughed.

"Hmm… maybe I shouldn't help ya then." She laughed, and realizing he was finished, turned to face him feeling a little insecure out the new look. Pretty Boy let out a low whistle of appreciation while scanning her from head to toe, taking an extra second to fully appreciate the ample cleavage being pushed over the dress by the corset. Alice fidgeted under his gaze.

"Are you sure? It looks seductive enough?" Pretty Boy gave her a big grin.

"Sweetheart, if I didn't already know ya… I'd spend a month of what I earn selling papes to buy ya," he stated with a suggestive leer and playfully snaking his arm around her waist. She laughed and smacked at him.

"Alright, Romeo, get off. I believe you." As a finishing touch, she took a beautiful, shining mask out of the folds of the skirt she had just discarded and tied it to her face so that she might hide her identity until the appropriate time. She turned to her accomplice and held her hand out to him.

"The revolver and the dagger?" He smirked before first reaching into the pocket of his slacks and retrieving the dagger and then opening his vest to reveal the hilt of the gun tucked at his waist. Alice reached for the dagger, placed it in a sheath she'd brought with her, and lifted her skirts to attach it to her thigh. She noticed Pretty Boy staring at the exposed flesh and rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, you've slept with almost as many girls as Spot Conlon. The sight of a leg can't still be thrilling to you." He shot her a look of defensive amusement.

"You would think… but it still is," he grinned. Alice rolled her eyes again before muttering "ugh… men" under her breath, to which Pretty Boy laughed heartily. She then held out her hand for the revolver, and after receiving it, tucked it into the sash at her back so that it might be concealed by the bow. When she felt ready, she looked to Pretty Boy for approval. He simply nodded, realizing that play time was over, and reached in his pocket for the sheet music she'd given him while walking to the piano to take his place. It was certainly lucky that her friend had a hidden talent for music.

Their secret knock sounded at the door, and both occupants of the room knew that it must be Ghost. Pretty Boy crossed to the door, allowing his friend entrance to the room. Ghost entered in a flash, quickly appraised the setting for their current plot with his usual seriousness, and then his eyes finally landed on Alice and widened a bit. Alice blushed a little, at this. There was a time in the not so distant past when she'd had a crush on Ghost, and his obvious lust for what he beheld flustered her a little. That time was definitely in the past, however. She had since realized that they just weren't right for each other.

"You approve?" she asked. Ghost cocked his head to the side with a smirk.

"I'll be honest. When you first came up with this, I didn't really think ya could pull it off. But now…" he trailed off. "Yes, I approve." Alice smiled with thanks, but felt a slight sting of insult at his words. That was Ghost though: back-handed compliments were his gift in life.

"Anyhow, I came to tell you that I saw them. They'll be here in minutes." Alice nodded to her friend and lookout, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

"Okay… show time." She then crossed the room and stood in the shadows so that her presence might be concealed while she waited to strike. Pretty Boy went back to the piano, and Ghost stood as sentry at the door. A silence fell over the room. This was the calm before the storm.

After what seemed like an hour but was probably no more than five minutes, a knock resounded through the room. Ghost flashed an encouraging smile towards the shadows where Alice stood before opening the door to pretend to be a bouncer for a very private party. Alice could not discern who was at the door first from her vantage point, but when prompted for the password by Ghost she heard the unmistakable arrogant tone of Sneer answering with the appropriate "subrosa." She then saw him enter with his usual cocky swagger and a passionate loathing washed over Alice. Next came Rascal, whom sat at the same table as Sneer, and finally Ash, who sat at a table to himself as there were no more seats available with his two friends. Both walked with gaits similar to Sneer's. She had to admit that, disregarding personality, each was attractive in his own way. Sneer's soft brown locks fell elegantly into ice blue eyes encased in chiseled facial features. He was skinny but toned with a medium stature. Rascal was taller than Sneer, with a much broader build. He too had blue eyes, but had a softer face with shortly cropped blonde hair. Ash was the tallest of them all. He was skinny, but not as skinny as Sneer; and he was muscular, though not in the broad sense that Rascal was. His dark blonde hair fell into his chocolate eyes which had lured more girls to his bed than he could possibly count. Ash was probably the most attractive of the three, though also the most unstable. However, Alice felt the bile rise in her throat as she almost choked on the suffocating air of superiority each of these monsters carried with them. Gone was any of the reticence from earlier that night. They were dead men walking.

The three warily looked about the room, particularly at the shadows, as they were not sure why the three of them had received the cryptic invitation to "a night they'd never forget." Their collective arrogance had overruled their caution, however, and curiosity won out. Pretty Boy instantly began to play a fun little tune to lighten the mood. And, as Ghost moved to bring them large glasses of whisky, they settled happily into conversation, waiting to see where the night would take them. Alice focused her attention on Sneer. While Ash was certainly certifiable and evil, as was Rascal, Sneer was the leader of their trio. At long last, Ghost gave one last secretive smile towards her direction before exiting the room to keep lookout. Noticing this, Pretty Boy stopped playing and announced from his position.

"Gentlemen! The benefactor of this little get together has arranged some very special entertainment for your particular pleasure! Prepare to be dazzled!" Alice exhaled slowly with a smile at Pretty Boy's subtle hint to them which they would never think to catch. The three guests of honor each looked curious and eager; their previous suspicions were completely drowned in alcohol and good cheer.

The sound of a slow and ethereal melody began to fill the room as Pretty Boy focused on the given sheet music. Alice braced herself then allowed her rich voice to carry away from her towards her victims like a siren from ancient Greek literature. Each head turned towards her shadows in anticipation.

_You don't remember my name.  
I don't really care.  
Can we play the game your way?  
Can I really lose control?_

Alice stepped out of the shadows, slowly swaying as she walked to the center of the room. As she passed Ash's table, the table which had been nearest to her, she brushed her hand suggestively across his chest. At her small action, she observed his transfixed expression turn to the expression of a predator while he lightly licked his lips. Alice's stomach clenched slightly, but she calmed herself as she felt the weight of the gun at her back and the rough texture of the sheath on her thigh, remembering that today she was the predator. __

Just once in my life,  
I think it'd be nice,  
Just to lose control, just once,  
With all the pretty flowers in the dust.

Alice approached the table where Sneer and Rascal sat with lust dancing in their eyes. She bit her lip coyly and eased backwards onto the table. She leaned back into their waiting arms, bending one of her legs up on the table so her skirt would fall away and show some of her bare flesh. She slowly arched her back and let her head fall back with a moan to give them a solid view of her cleavage and to complete the sexual image she meant to construct so as to lure them further into a false sense of security and distraction. Before their shock at her display could wear off and they felt free to roam her body with their hands, she pushed herself up and away from the table. She glanced over to see that Ash did not look neglected but was looking downright feverish after her display.__

Mary had a lamb.  
His eyes black as coals.  
If we play very quiet, my lamb,  
Mary never has to know.

Alice stood in the center before the two tables, allowing her hands to harshly roam her body as she sang. Each of them was transfixed on the spectacle before them, with clouded eyes and bated breath. Yes, she had them where she wanted them. Yes, tonight she was the wolf leading these black-souled lambs to slaughter. __

Just once in my life,  
I think it'd be nice,  
Just to lose control, just once.

Alice allowed one of her hands to roam to her back where she had concealed the revolver. She grasped it firmly and allowed her hand to snake the gun seductively over body. She had worried that this would finally put the boys on alert, but she almost laughed and smacked her head at the notion when she saw their obvious arousal increase ten-fold. Of course, the only thing they loved as much as sex was violence. Combining the two had the ability to put them over the edge of ecstasy. She subtly clicked back the hammer. __

If I cut you down to a thing I can use,  
I fear there will be nothing good left of you.

Now for the grand finale: Alice slowly raised the gun so that it was pointed at Sneer's head while simultaneously reaching her other hand around to the back of her head to untie her mask. As her disguise fell to the ground with a flourish, and her gun now pointed firmly at its target, recognition and shock registered over Sneer's face. As the music finally stopped, a cold smile of vengeance graced Alice's face. Rascal gasped uncharacteristically, while she vaguely heard Ash whisper her name. Indignant anger crossed Sneer's face, though his eyes held a hint of fear. She did not give him time speak however.

"I told you there would be consequences, and I always make good on my promises," Alice stated in a cold monotone, "Goodbye, you sick bastard." With that, she pulled the trigger and ended his life with a burst of red as his blood smattered the area around him, including Rascal, thus snapping him out of his trance. He made to move towards her to knock the gun from her hand, but she had planned on that long before this night. The hammer was already, once again, pulled back. And, for the second time that night, she pulled the trigger and ended a life. Rascal immediately collapsed dead on the floor. Alice's heart raced as she quickly clicked back the hammer a third time and turned to Ash's table, but felt her blood run cold as she realized he wasn't there. She began to turn when she felt strong arms embrace her from behind and her wrist which held the gun become grasped so hard that she was forced to drop the gun, making it impossible for her to attack. Fear and disgust paralyzed her she felt Ash's lips brush her neck.

"Baby, you don't have to worry about Olivia anymore. I'm all yours. I promise," he breathed heatedly into her skin. No sarcasm or malice entered his voice. His words were nothing but sincere. Ash truly meant it. He had just watched her murder his two best friends and he'd taken it as a love note to him personally. He truly was unhinged.

Pretty Boy gritted his teeth at the scene before him. He'd promised Alice that he would not interfere the very first day she'd approached him about her plan. She'd said neither he nor Ghost had a dog in this fight… the three were hers to kill. She had said the entire thing would be pointless if she only ended up sacrificing one friend for another friend. And he'd promised. But he could not just sit and watch Ash have his way with her. So, he jumped from behind the piano and rushed the pair, knocking them both to the ground. He managed to push Alice off to the side before jumping to his feet as Ash also got to his. Pretty Boy swung his fist and connected it with Ash's jaw. Ash reeled but came back laughing maniacally and circling Pretty Boy with perfect foot work.

"Oh God, baby, you're too good to me!" he exclaimed with glee, "This is the greatest night of foreplay ever!" Pretty Boy made to hit him again, but this time Ash blocked it while simultaneously landing a shot to his gut. Pretty Boy groaned in agony, doubled over.

"Ash! Stop it!" Alice screamed. Ash only looked her as if she were an impatient child.

"Love, it's ok. Just let me finish him, and then we can get out of here." He then jumped on top of Pretty Boy and began to wildly hit at him. Alice screamed at the sight. Remembering the dagger, she pulled up her skirt and unsheathed it. She made use of the fact that Ash was not paying any attention to her and dove on top of him while stabbing the knife into his back. He gave an agonizing yell and fell away from Pretty Boy. Alice wasted no time in lifting a chair over her head and smashing it over his head, knocking him out. She dashed to Pretty Boy's side. He was pretty banged up with his boyish face covered in blood. It appeared his nose was broken. Thankfully, he was still conscious, so she slowly pulled him to his feet… berating herself for allowing her friend to be put in harm's way. When he was on his feet, using her as a crutch, he tilted his head to the side to groggily regard her.

"Well, almost a perfect success. You're more lethal than I guessed," he croaked with a half-smile. Alice beamed at her dear friend's sense of humor and timing.

"Hmm… still not an assassin though. I guess I'll have to pick another potential profession," she retorted. Pretty Boy laughed but fell into a coughing fit as he choked on the blood in his mouth. Worry etched Alice's face.

"OK, let's get out of here. I wonder where Ghost is? You'd think he'd have come in when he heard all that commotion." She didn't have long to wait for her answer. The owner of the tavern burst into the room. After surveying the bodies, he eyed Alice with a hearty chuckle.

"My, oh, My. You are the dangerous little bitch, aren't you? Spot's not going to be happy with you," he admonished with amusement. His words made Alice freeze.

"Spot? Spot Conlon? Why would he know?" The owner feigned a look of guilt.

"Well, pet, when I realized you'd be killing some of Spot's boys in my establishment, I couldn't chance the little devil having it in for my tavern. So, I told him." Panic flooded Alice's body. Pretty Boy chose that moment to speak.

"We had a deal!" he exclaimed angrily. The owner gave him a winning smile.

"And I kept it. The authorities have not been called. Spot's on his way with some of his boys. And your buddy already ran off. I'm supposin' he's got a history with Brooklyn." Alice couldn't believe what she was hearing. Surly Ghost wouldn't have deserted them without warning. This made no sense. But, she had to focus on the present. The Brooklyn newsies were coming for her, and probably Pretty Boy too now. She couldn't let them get ahold of him though. This wasn't his fight. She made for the back alley to sounds of the owner's laughter. Once outside, she dragged Pretty Boy to a pile of crates with a rotten moldy covering on them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Alice?" Pretty Boy interrogating, having a sneaking suspicion where she was going with this.

"You're going to hide here," she stated flatly, as if it were obvious. Pretty Boy seemed to become indignant.

"Like hell I am! YOU hide here. Let Brooklyn find me."

"No. I will not. It's me they really want, and should want, not you." Pretty Boy made to struggle away from her, so Alice did the only thing she could think to do. She reared her fist back and punched him with all of her might. As he had only been barely conscious before, Alice's punch made him fall straight out. He slumped in her arms as she struggled to get him down to the ground without hitting his head anymore that night. With great effort, she managed to slowly drag him behind the crates and place the blanket over him. Hopefully, he would not wake up until Brooklyn was done searching.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she stood erect and took a deep breath. She needed to run. She jogged to the end of the alley and stood with her back against the wall and leaned out to look at the front entrance of the tavern. Her stomach clenched when she realized that five Brooklyn newsies were standing outside watching the street closely. From the inside, she could hear angry yelling. Spot was obviously inside, and he'd seen her handy work. This was not good at all.

Alice attempted to steady her emotions and think. There was no real way out. If she came out of the alley, the newsies at the door would see her, catch her, and come check the alley. She glanced back at where Pretty Boy was hidden. She needed to keep them away from the alley if at all possible. With that thought, she did the only thing she could think to do: not appear from the alley. She ran back to alley door and knocked. When the same burly man came to answer, he appeared shocked to see her. Before he could say anything, Alice shoved her hand down her dress, pulled some emergency money out, shoved it at the doorman, and spoke.

"Look that's all I have. I just need you to forget that I was ever in the alley or that anyone was ever with me. Okay?" she implored hurriedly. The man seemed to consider her for a second before nodding and stepping to the side. Alice wasted no time bursting through the door, down the little dark hallways and into the main room of the tavern. She didn't stop there. She meant to distract them with a fight. So she began pushing through the patrons and causing a commotion. The tavern owner noticed and alerted Spot.

"Mr. Conlon! There the bitch goes! She must not have left! She's headed to the front entrance!" With that, Alice did exactly as he said and headed to the front entrance. She heard a commanding voice yelling orders behind her, but it was unnecessary. The newsies out front had already heard the owner and were waiting for her. The second she reached fresh air, multiple set of arms grabbed her. She struggled with all of her might, looking for a lucky break which she knew she would not find. Just as she saw piercing blue eyes enter her vision, regarding her coldly, she felt a fist from behind land into her skull, effectively knocking her out.

Spot Conlon stood before his newsies, staring at the girl knocked out in Sidewinder's arms. The confident leader was enraged, but also confused by what he had found. A lot of planning had gone into these murders. They reeked of personal vendetta. He was going to get answers, and going to get them soon. He spoke to his newsies, "Clean up that damn mess. Get Ash back to the lodging house, I think he's still alive. Sidewinder? Carry whoever the fuck this is back to the lodging house as well. But don't touch her. I want answers first. Understood?" They all nodded their heads and got to work. Meanwhile, Spot struck a match, lit a cigarette, and went for a walk to clear his head before he began the interrogation.

AN: First off, the lyrics belong to Evanescence. It's the song "Lose Control." Secondly, I realize that I left a lot of questions unanswered here. That was on purpose. It's part of the plot. That said, thanks to all who have read this! I hope you liked the beginning.


	2. Disclaimer

Oh… disclaimer: I do not own any of the newsies whom appear in the movie. I only own new characters and the plot. Sorry for making this look like a second chapter. Kind of a tease… I know. lol


	3. Complicated

Spot casually strolled through the dark streets of his territory as dawn began to approach. He paid little attention to his surroundings. Most would find it ill-advised to walk through Brooklyn with such a low level of awareness, but this haunted and worn borough of the city was his sanctuary. Nothing, not even the bulls, dared to touch him here. Typically, he would take great joy in surveying his kingdom, but not this night. No, on this night he'd seen a disturbing sight which lacked explanation.

He recalled his shock upon entering the tavern several hours prior. One of his little birds had come running earlier that evening, saying that the owner of said tavern claimed that three of his newsies were to be murdered in his establishment that night. He had smiled ruefully at the madness of the idea. Who, in their right mind, would dare to try and kill any of his boys on his turf? Brooklyn was about alliances and loyalty, and an alliance with Spot Conlon was never spurned… no matter how much the offender paid the tavern owner. He had expected to find signs of an all-out struggle between two warring groups: that was the norm. He supposed it may be some idiot group of newsies from another territory whom had gotten into a boundary scuffle with some his newsies while selling papes. Perhaps they would be from Queens. As such, he wasn't too worried. Each and every one of his boys knew how to fight. So sure was Spot in his boys' abilities that he even expected to find a few of the offenders' dead bodies. But, that was not at all what he found.

As he had entered the side room of the decrepit bar, he was outraged to see that not only were all three of his newsies cold on the ground, but none of the perpetrators remained. What was worse, there appeared to have been little struggle. Sneer and Rascal lay dead beside the drinks they had been enjoying with bullet holes in their skulls. Only Ash appeared to have put up a fight, and he'd ended up with a knife in his back and what appeared to have been a chair to his head. Spot's skin had tingled with rage like pin pricks all over. He'd stormed out of the room and into the face of the owner while grabbing his moth-eaten collar.

"What the fuck happened?" he'd hissed. The old man had trembled in his hands and began stuttering his pathetic answer.

"Th-th-th-the girl! It was h-her!" This had made no sense.

"What girl?"

"I-I don't know! Black hair! Green eyes!" Spot had released the man with disgust. He had let some pathetic girl get away? Then again, this same girl could not be pathetic. She he just murdered. So, Spot marched back into the room to look for signs about what must have happened.

Obviously they had been caught off guard. If they had seen it coming, they would have put up a fight. With that knowledge in mind, he had supposed Ash must have been attacked last. He had also guessed that Rascal was attacked second, as he was further from his seat than Sneer, whom still lay slumped in his chair. So, Sneer was the first and most important target. But, all three were important to this girl. Why? And how had she distracted them? Surly, if this was personal, they'd have recognized her. That's when his eyes had fallen on the mask which lay glittering on the floor innocently. So, she had disguised herself. Clever. But that had still left so much unexplained. He had then walked towards the piano and noticed some sheet music. So, she had performed for them? That would also explain their lack of alertness. But this had raised suspicion in Spot's mind. Had there been an accomplice? The owner had only mentioned a girl. Perhaps she had simply hired a piano player whom had no connection to the plot? Still, if the player had been involved, that would explain why Ash would have had his back turned to a potential attacker. Yet another question. Still, the biggest question of all remained: why?

Spot had still been mulling the scene over in his head when he'd heard the owner's shouts that the girl was still in the tavern and heading for the entrance. It did not matter, he'd already instructed his boys outside to stop anyone at the exit and to watch the street for suspicious activity. They would catch her. Still, he had yelled for some of his newsies outside to enter the room and check on Ash while he made his way to the door in order to confront the killer. But, little confrontation was to be had at that moment. As he'd exited the building, his eyes had landed on a girl whom more resembled a frightened animal thrashing about for its life in a tangle of black hair and emerald satin than an assassin. He had coolly observed Sidewinder lift his fist to knock her out, but right before the fist had connected with her skull he had made eye contact with forest green eyes. It had been such a quick glance, but he could have sworn that despite the fight she was putting up, her eyes had been steady… like she knew exactly what she was doing. It had been unnerving. So, after having finished giving orders, he'd taken to the streets… his streets… to clear his head and reflect on the coming interrogation.

As Spot approached the docks, he began to whistle. While most would take this as a sign of relaxation, this was not the case with Spot Conlon. He only whistled when he was in deep thought. He wasn't sure when he'd started this particular habit, but it had served him well. On more than one occasion, he'd managed to ruffle an enemy's feathers by whistling in the face of distress and chaos. But no one was around at this moment as he strode down the dock, pausing at one end with his arms crossed over his chest as he observed the rising sun over the East River, still whistling a happy tune. After several moments spent in this posture, Spot finally stopped whistling, sighed, ran a resigned hand through his dark gold locks, and turned to walk confidently towards the door of the Brooklyn Lodging House. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long day.

Alice's head felt like it was about to split open due to the raging headache she was experiencing. She groaned in agony and rolled over on her mattress as she put her arms across the back of her head as if the pain were a noise she was meaning to stifle. It was then that she realized something was off about her surroundings. The mattress smelled foreign to her, and it had no sheets. She could also feel that it was merely twin size, whereas her mattress should be full size. Furthermore, she could hear the sound of numerous masculine voices in the distance. No, this was not right at all.

With a pained effort due to her still screaming headache, she rolled over and slowly opened her eyes. As suspected, she did not find her room. Instead, she appeared to be in a bunk room of sorts lying on an unused bunk with a tall, broad-shouldered newsie staring at her with a serious expression. Her facial features were laced with confusion as she stared back at the giant young-man and memories of the previous night began to hit her like a tidal wave. She'd murdered three of Brooklyn's newsies, Ghost was missing, Pretty Boy had hopefully woken up from his hiding spot behind the crates and made it back to the Bronx, and now she was being held captive in what she assumed was the Brooklyn Lodging House. This morning just kept getting better and better. She fell back onto the mattress, buried her face to stifle herself, and let out a long scream of frustration, fear, and every other emotion backed up in her system. When she had finally finished, she looked up to see the newsie sitting guard over her still staring, but now with one eyebrow raised as if to ask her if she was mentally sane. Yes, she was still sane. But, she was no longer innocent, she thought with sadness. She did not regret what she had done, but she regretted having to do it. She only hoped God would agree when she met Him, which could potentially be that day she realized with fear. At that notion, she moved to kneel on the floorboards next to the bunk. However, as she moved, her guard jumped to his feet to stop what he guessed was her attempt at an escape. In response, Alice merely put her hands up in surrender in effort to calm him down.

"I'm only moving to the floor," she stated evenly in her most soothing voice, "I promise." He shot her a disbelieving look, but as she continued to move, he did not stop her. When she was finally in a kneeling position next to the bed, she looked up at him again.

"See? I'm not going anywhere. I'm not that stupid." At this, the guard appeared to smile in spite of himself.

"Why do you wanna be on the floor?" he questioned with a surprisingly smooth voice.

"To pray." Her answer seemed to take him off guard as he once again cocked his eyebrow at her.

"A whore who prays?" At first, Alice took offense to his statement, but then remembered what she was wearing and sighed.

"I'm not a whore. The dress is on loan." He seemed to take her word, and nodded. Feeling that she had now satisfied his current curiosity, Alice turned back to her task at hand. She leaned over the mattress, clasped her hands, and began to pray. She prayed over anything and everything she could think of as if it were her last confession. But, primarily, she prayed that she might be forgiven for the lives she had taken. She may have been praying five minutes or she may have been praying an hour, either way she was interrupted by an incredulous but authoritative voice.

"Just great. We have a pious murderer on our hands." Alice snapped her eyes open and jerked her head towards the entrance to the bunkroom, where she could see the young man she assumed to be Spot Conlon casually leaning against the door frame. "So tell me," he continued, "was last night a crusade then?" Alice considered her answer.

"Yes and no." Spot looked less than impressed with her response.

"Listen, girl, if your responses to my questions don't get any less vague than that soon, I'm going to have to force some clarity out of you." Alice, upon reflex, looked scandalized by his insinuation of violence towards a girl. Spot smirked at her. "Look, I don't want to hurt a girl. But, ya killed two of mine last night… which makes this a special circumstance. Still, I'd rather you just tell me what I need to know without it coming to that." Alice nodded her head in understanding. She could see where the leader of Brooklyn was coming from. He did not know what her motive had been, and was now just doing his job. Suddenly something he said seemed to click, however.

"Two?" she questioned, expecting him to correct the mistake and say three. However he did not.

"Yeah, two."

"Not three?" she asked with a sense of foreboding that she may have left one alive. Spot seemed to pick up on where her confusion lay and once again smirked.

"I said two; I meant two. Though, you did do a serious number on Ash." Alice paled at this news. If given the choice between Ash and Rascal to still fear meeting, she'd rather meet Rascal. Ash was just deranged. He was hard to predict, and that made him much more dangerous.

Spot couldn't help but notice the fearful look in the girl's eyes when he mentioned that Ash was still alive. That was very interesting, he thought. It, at the very least, suggested that there was more to her relationship with the victims than just last night. That knocked any possibility of her being a hired hit out of the question. No, officially, this girl had something personal against Sneer, Rascal, and Ash… and Spot was determined to find out what that something was.

"Well, I don't intend to stand in this doorway all day. I'd rather continue this little meeting in my room. Sidewinder?" Spot looked to the guard, "I've got her from here." With that, Sidewinder got up and left the room. Spot's eyes again fell on the raven-headed young lady still knelt on the floor. "And you, if you think you're done praying, follow me… but don't try anything stupid." Alice knew that, whether she really was done praying or not, he intended for her to follow that second. So, with no further direction, she rose to her feet and followed Spot down a somewhat long corridor on the same floor as the bunkroom. When they got to the end of the hall, Spot opened the door and gestured for her to go in before him.

Alice entered a small room with a single bunk in the corner to her left. An old trunk sat at the foot of the bed. One window which led to a rusty fire escape was on the wall to the right with a cracking, wooden desk beneath it. In the center of the room was a small circular table, no bigger than a kitchen table, with three chairs surrounding it. She assumed that this must be Spot's room. She heard the door snap shut behind her and shuddered unwillingly. Alice was now alone with the infamous Spot Conlon.

"Take a seat," he commanded. Not wanting to anger him anymore than what was necessary, Alice approached the table and took a seat on the far side of it, as far from Spot as possible. Spot noticed and smirked at her when he finally had her attention.

"What? Scared?" Alice merely stared back into his dark blues with apprehension without saying a word. Spot observed the girl with a calculating expression.

"Ya know… ya don't really fit the profile of a cold-blooded murderer. Ya far too skittish," he finally concluded, hoping to at least provoke a response. After a minute of continued observation, he was beginning to think he would be disappointed. However, Alice finally found her voice.

"What are you going to do with me?" She attempted to make her voice sound much stronger than her nerves at that moment. She expected Spot to smirk again and taunt her, but he did not. Instead he let out a long exhalation, moved to lean against the door in a relaxed posture, and began to whistle. Alice arched her eyebrows in confusion. This hardly seemed like a good moment for a musical interlude. Still, the whistling continued for several long and awkward minutes until finally Alice could not take it anymore.

"Why are you doing that?" she demanded. Spot seemed to jump out of a deep reverie back to reality, looking almost shocked to see her.

"What?" Alice nodded her head towards him in response to his question, though he still did not seem to understand what she was meaning to indicate.

"The whistling… why are you whistling right now?" Recalling the deep thoughts he'd just lost himself in, he pinned her with an icy stare.

"You don't like the tune? Let's see if I can find something more to ya liking." Still staring straight into her, he began whistling an ethereal melody he'd been introduced to only hours prior via sheet music. Alice froze: her breathing stopped, her stomach clenched, and she feared that even her heart had stopped at that moment.

"H-how do you know that song?" she questioned with a pronounced stutter. Spot stopped whistling and gave her sweet smile of feigned innocence. He then reached forward, swung the chair next to her around, and sat facing her from inches away with his chest leaned casually against the back of the chair and his arms slung over.

"Mmm… I'm afraid I don't know that song, to tell the truth. Picked the tune up at a quaint little tavern earlier, but unfortunately I don't know any of the words," he began conversationally. He donned the expression of one with a great idea, "Say! YOU wouldn't be able to help a fella out, now would ya?" he finished, though his eyes held a serious glint. Alice sat in a stunned silence. Did he know exactly what she had done? But how? She decided to play dumb anyhow.

"Why would I know that song?" she stated clearly, though a bit more weakly than before. Spot cocked his head to the side, glaring at her. He was not in the mood to listen to this girl play coy.

"Come on, doll. Let me hear the sweet words my boys died to," he spat at her. Alice, whom had been staring at her shoes, suddenly jumped at his words and her eyes flew to his. Spot smirked. So, he'd guessed correctly. Still, she did not say anything.

"Alright, it would seem we're going to have to ease into this. You're lucky you're a girl and I'm feeling generous. If some guy had killed my boys, I'd just beat the snot out of him until I knew what I wanted to know." Alice gulped, hoping his supposed good mood lasted. "What's ya name?" Alice considered his question. She had the urge to lie, but too many Brooklyn newsies already knew her, including Ash.

"Alice." Spot nodded, as if saying hello to her for the first time.

"I assume you already know my name." It was a statement, not a question, but Alice answered anyhow.

"Spot Conlon." The words felt foreign on her tongue, speaking them to the actual man himself. He nodded to her again.

"Since we're on the name game, can ya tell me the names of the newsies you killed?" Again, Alice weighed her options. She really had nothing to lose here.

"Sneer and Rascal," she spat with vehemence, as if the words tasted gross in her mouth. Spot raised an eyebrow in question at her obvious hatred.

"Well that answers that question… no need to tell me if it was personal or not." Alice crossed her arms and looked away in defiance. She did not owe him anymore answers. He'd obviously already figured enough out on his own. However, she realized that she had perhaps made an error as her display seemed to enrage Spot. He leaned forward, roughly grabbed her face, and forced her head around to face him. His eyes glared daggers into hers from mere centimeters away, and Alice could feel her stomach flip with a strange excitement. She felt his hot breathe against her face, and her heart began to beat erratically at the close proximity to the deceivingly boyish and beautiful face of the dangerous young man before her.

"Do. Not. Ever. Turn. Away. From. Me," he hissed, separating each word for clarity. Despite her fear, Alice could also feel a blush creeping up on her cheeks, intensified by the added embarrassment of knowing Spot would notice. Suddenly, she was saved by an urgent pounding on the door. Spot immediately dropped her face, with a frustrated growl, and moved to swing open the door with one fluid motion. Alice felt her anxiety mount as she saw Charm at the door. Alice had met Charm several times before. He was Sneer's best friend. Not only that, but he was Spot's second in command. A feeling of dread took hold of Alice. His visage was the perfect picture of grief and anger warring for dominance.

Charm did not even glance at Spot but stared straight at her. Recognition lit his face, and disbelief became the dark horse winner of the war over his emotions.

"You! But… how? Why?" he raged. Alice felt her anxiety melt into anger. Why? He'd honestly asked her why? Sneer was his best friend. She would not be convinced that he did not know what gruesome games Sneer had delighted himself with. The knowledge that he had to have known, but allowed it to continue was almost as sick as the act itself. And the fact that he would question her own disgust: that was just repulsive. Alice felt herself rise to her legs with her hands bracing herself on the table as she leaned towards Charm in a confrontational manner.

"How dare you! How dare you question why I would do this! They deserved it and more! I used to think you were a decent person, Charm, but only a truly depraved human would sit back while his demon best friend did what he was doing to Olivia… with his little minions right beside him no less! You make me sick, Charm! You really do!"

Spot watched Alice's tirade with intense interest. Apparently this connection of hers to Brooklyn went deeper than he could guess, and Charm may just be the key to unlocking her motive. However, the man in question looked bewildered.

"What, in God's name, are ya talking about?" he questioned with obvious confusion, though his tone still held an edge of anger. Alice looked as if she'd been slapped. She suddenly let out a shrill and angry scream, roughly knocking the nearest chair over with her arm, her mane of black curls swinging with the inertia causing her to resemble a banshee. Spot leaned forward a bit. Finally, he was seeing a hint of the murderer within.

"What am I talking about?... WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT? I'll tell you exactly what I'm talking about. I'm talking about your bastard best friend and his buddies raping Olivia… beating Olivia... cutting her… breaking bones… doing whatever the hell they want to her without apology every single day of her life for weeks and weeks on end! I'm talking about the verbal abuse on top of everything else… calling her heinous and worthless… telling her she's a dumb slut… wearing her down mentally to the point where she doesn't even have the will to fight back! I am talking about Sneer, Rascal, and Ash breaking my best friend in every way a person can be broken and laughing about it! They were killing Olivia for sport, slowly and torturously! AND I COULDN'T FUCKING WATCH IT ANYMORE!" As if sucked dry of all energy by her speech, Alice collapsed back into her chair shaking and with angry tears streaming down her face altogether looking like a tangled, ebony mess.

Both men stood staring at Alice slack jawed. Spot couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Had his boys really done all that to her best friend… to a helpless girl? The idea made him sick to his stomach. He didn't want to believe it, but her raw emotions struck him as nothing but genuine. Charm was even more adamant to not believe, however.

"No… I don't believe you…" he breathed desperately at her, as if begging her to take it all back. Alice's only response, feeling too exhausted to speak just yet, was to snarl at him. Charm turned his attention to Spot.

"She's a liar, Spot. You can't possibly believe any of this. Those were your boys… they were Brooklyn," Charm beseeched his leader. Spot looked back and forth between his captive and his second, attempting to reach a decision. He let out a frustrated grunt.

"I don't want to believe her Charm, but if she's lying… she's the best actress I've ever seen. And, if what she says is true, I just wouldn't feel right making her suffer for killing em." Charm seemed outraged.

"Ya can't be serious, Spot!" Spot simply silenced him with an indignant glare.

"Do not question me, Charm. I'm not in the mood for it. And, ya didn't let me finish. I'm going to investigate this myself just to be sure I'm not just in possession of the best liar ever. Is Ash awake yet?" At the mention of the beautifully sinister newsie, Alice felt the chill of gooseflesh covering her from head to toe. Her head swung up to meet Spot's gaze with unabashed fear. The raw emotion on the girl's face made Spot soften a bit towards the girl. It occurred to him that if everything she said was true, then her aversion to Ash was very much merited, and forcing her to face him would just be cruel.

"Yeah," Charm responded with steady confidence, breaking his train of thought, "Do you want me to bring him here so you can hear for yourself how she lies?" Spot paused, deciding on the best course of action.

"Yes, but I want you to bring Flame here first." At Spot's command, charm left in search of the ginger. While Flame may not have been the most popular guy in the lodging house, he was a favorite of Spot's. Flame was a quiet guy who knew how to take his emotions out of a situation. Considering the allegations stacked on Alice's head, Flame was the only one he felt he could trust to simply keep her out of harm's way while also making sure she did not make a run for it. Alice, however, seemed to have objections as she gave Spot a panicked look.

"Flame? Why do you need Flame? He's not involved in this. And he hates me… openly." Spot felt surprise for yet another time that day.

"How many Brooklyn newsies do ya know, girl?" he demanded with a tone of incredulousness.

"Too many," Alice responded flatly, crossing her arms over her chest like a sullen child. Spot felt a twinge of hurt at her apparent dislike of Brooklyn, as if she had aimed the words at him personally. Though, the emotion was confusing. This girl meant nothing to his life. He shook the thought away, not wishing to delve any deeper into the issue.

"Well, he'll be nicer to ya than any of the others right now. I suggest ya take your chances with him over any of my other options."

"What do you mean? Are you giving me to him or something?" Her voice with laced with confusion. Spot sighed with irritation.

"Look, I'm trying to be a good guy here. If your story is true, I don't wanna make ya be around Ash. But I gotta talk to him. So, I'm going to give ya to Flame until I figure out my next move. Got it?" Alice appreciated his consideration, so she hesitated to argue. However, she wasn't in the mood to deal with Flame's disapproval.

"What about… what was his name?... Sidewinder? Why can't he watch me again?" Spot once again shot her an irritated look.

"Look, doll, I may be leader… but I'm no tyrant. Sidewinder's been watching ya all night. Guy deserves a break. Flame can do it. Or would you rather just stay here and greet Ash when he arrives?" Alice had to admit she appeared to be out of options. So, she nodded to Spot as a symbol of her acceptance of his decision.

"Good." As if on cue, Flame appeared at the threshold of Spot's room with Charm in tow. Flame's face was expressionless as he regarded Alice, though she heard him mutter a "figures" to himself. He then turned that same blank expression to Spot, as if waiting.

"Flame, I understand you're already acquainted with our captive so I won't bother with introductions. Take her with you. Watch her… keep the other boys away. Don't touch her. Some investigating needs to be done without her here. You got that?" Spot instructed. Flame curtly nodded his head without protest and began to walk out of the room. Alice stood rooted to her spot, confused, unsure if he meant for her to follow him. After a few paces, Flame realized she was not following, and turned to give her an impatient gesture.

"Well, come on," he commanded with annoyance obvious in his tone. Alice, not wanting to make things any worse with Flame than necessary, immediately jumped up and began to follow. Flame allowed not another backwards glance towards her as he made his way back down the hall, past the bunkroom where curious newsies leaned out the door to peer at the murderer (some hissing at her as she passed), and down the stairs to an entryway. However, he did not stop there. He crossed the entranceway to another dark hallway. Halfway down the hall, he finally paused at a door. Without hesitating, he opened it and walked in with Alice following.

The room was even dustier than the rest of the lodging house, which was really saying something. It had no windows to allow light or fresh air, and was lit with a singular light bulb which swung from the ceiling. The atmosphere was not welcoming, to say the least. And, it appeared that it was not really used as anything more than storage as a couple tables were pushed together against a wall and several chairs stood stacked against another wall. Flame said nothing as he pulled a chair from one of the stacks, plopped down, pulled a rolled up paper out of his back pocket, and began to peruse its contents. Alice awkwardly stood in the center of the room, unsure of what to do next. After a few minutes, Flame finally looked up to see Alice standing still and rolled his eyes at her.

"Ya might wanna grab a seat. We'll probably be here a while," he stated and then went back to reading. As if she'd just been waiting for instruction, Alice jumped into action by pulling a chair from the same stack as Flame and quietly seated herself. There was little else to do, so Alice simply stared at Flame and lost herself in thought. She didn't dislike Flame; she actually respected him when it came to most areas of life. As such, it both hurt and frustrated Alice to know that Flame felt quite the opposite with regards to her. She knew why, though, and she could not honestly blame him. However, it hadn't been her fault and she felt that he could stand to be a bit more understanding. Especially now. If what she'd just done had not proven the loyalty she felt to Olivia which he questioned, she did not know what would. After all, she'd shown him much more leniency when she'd discovered that Flame knew what Sneer, Rascal, and Ash did but refused to do anything. She'd berated him harshly for not intervening, but he reminded her that he was smaller than the three and also lived in the same room as them; he needed to think of his own self-preservation. And, while Alice found his response cowardly, she also had to admit that he had enough of a point to simply let it go. That, actually, had been one of the final straws to push Alice to take matters into her own hands.

Flame could feel Alice's intense gaze upon him, but tried to ignore it. He really did not like his current assignment, so if he could possibly forget that she was there… he would. Though, after several minutes passed, he could not pretend anymore.

"Stop staring at me, please," he stated with distaste towards her. Alice shot him an indignant glare. "And don't glare at me either," he added. Alice scoffed.

"I'll allow that you can choose whether I look at you or not, but you can't control the manner with which I look at anything," she admonished. Flame growled, before reclaiming his usual calm.

"I don't like you," he stated simply. Alice rolled her eyes.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I don't think we have enough time for that," he managed to sneer without expression. Alice let out a frustrated shriek.

"You are SO self-righteous… and I will never understand why." Flame coolly stared into Alice's eyes.

"Likewise." Alice felt his words like a slap to the face and responded heatedly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Flame met her heated glare with cool arrogance.

"You're all talk." Alice cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Really? You can say that with a straight face right now?" Flame's lips fell into a frown, marking that her words had hit home. He was quiet for a moment while he considered the current situation.

"So you killed them for Olivia?" he questioned in all seriousness. Alice glared at Flame.

"No, Flame, I just developed a sudden taste for blood sport," she retorted sarcastically, "Of course I did it for Olivia." Flame again seemed to consider her, but Alice had had enough of his judgment.

"Ya know what, Flame? I really don't care at all what you think of me or what I've done. In fact, your opinion is the last in the world I would consider right now." Flame looked indignant.

"And why is that?"

"Because you're a hypocrite." Flame looked like he was about to argue but Alice did not hesitate to continue, "You walk around judging me for walking out on my friend when it turned out she needed me most and leaving you the full responsibility, but you just did the same thing. At least I can honestly claim that I didn't realize what I was leaving her to deal with when I left. You can't claim the same." Flame looked enraged for a brief second, but as quickly as the rage appeared it disappeared. In fact, his face was void of any emotion all together. Without saying another word, he went back to reading his paper.

Alice sighed to herself. She thought that maybe her words may have had an effect on Flame, but it was always hard to tell with him. He was not the type to ever admit defeat. She would simply have to wait and see if she noticed any change in him. They went back to sitting in silence, Flame reading while Alice stared into space. Though, this time, Alice made sure that Flame was not in that space.

Upstairs, Spot Conlon was growing very frustrated with Ash. When Ash had entered his room, he had not moved with his usual grace. Spot had assumed that he must be in a lot of pain, so he had tried to start off gentle with him. As Ash took a seat, he had looked at Spot expectantly.

"Ash, I heard something disturbing today." Ash still had said nothing, but raised his eyebrow in question. "I heard that you, Rascal, and Sneer have been regularly raping and beating a girl for weeks." Ash still had said nothing, but Spot had felt sick as he detected a slight look of amusement in Ash's eyes. "Is this true?" Ash had then donned an innocent expression.

"Would I do that, Spot?" he had questioned with the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Spot had felt his anger and revulsion rise.

"Answer the question," Spot had hissed. Ash had merely shrugged his shoulders.

Now, Spot was ready to stick the blade he'd found last night back into Ash's back.

"Ash, I want words, not a body movement." Ash again donned a look of innocence.

"I'm afraid I don't remember, Spotty."

"What do you mean you don't remember?" Spot nearly yelled. Again, Ash shrugged, but also responded this time.

"Well, I was hit kinda hard in the head last night, it would seem. The last few weeks are a little bit blurry to me now. So, I'm afraid I cannot say whether I did those things or not. That's why I'm putting it to you, old buddy. Would I?" Spot gritted his teeth at the man in front of him. Ash had always been slippery, and Spot wasn't sure he could honestly believe that he did not remember.

"I don't want to believe that ya did, but I've known ya a long time. I know ya not an angel." Ash shot Spot a devilish grin.

"That is true. So, what ya gonna do?" Spot again growled, feeling more frustrated than he had in a long time. Ash interrupted his thoughts. "May I make a bit of a suggestion?"

"What?" Spot snapped.

"Keep Alice here until ya know for sure. Maybe bring Olivia here?" Spot paused to consider his words. It was certainly odd that an innocent man would want his attacker to stay in the same building as he, but Spot had a suspicion that Ash was in fact guilty. Still, he could not take action without evidence. It seemed that his suggestion was the only true option. He had to talk to this Olivia, and he needed to keep Alice here until he did.

"Alright, ya probably right. But, if I find out you went anywhere near Alice tonight, you'll have me to deal with. Got that?" Ash smirked up at Spot.

"Of course." Spot felt a little uneasy, but his hands were tied.

"Alright, get out of my sight." Ash said not a word as he got up and left the room. Spot let out a deep breath as he slumped down into the nearest chair in exhaustion. This was a lot more complicated than he had expected. With two gunshots, this Alice had exploded into his life and taken center stage. And, Ash's eagerness to keep her here gave him an unsettled feeling which he now tried to brush off.


	4. Dark as Ash

Perspiration dripped down Flame's face as he struggled with the hulking mattress down the steps of the lodging house. He considered asking one of the other boys for help, but he absolutely did not care to answer questions about why he was doing Alice any favors. Alice was still seen as a murderer, and while he did not truly care what the other newsies thought about him, aligning himself with the girl would be similar to suicide… and she definitely was not worth that hassle. Still, though he'd never admit it, he silently applauded her murderous acts. Also, he was haunted by their conversation earlier that day. As a result, he had found himself pitying the girl whom Spot had locked in the storage room with the master key to the lodging house which he always wore around his neck. So, he'd requested the temporary usage of the key and lobbied Spot to allow her a mattress to sleep on at the very least. Spot, considering what he'd heard about Flame's past relationship with Alice, was surprised at his request. However, he'd relented and agreed to the proposition. Spot had claimed that he'd locked Alice into the room more for her safety than anything else, anyhow. Now, with a great last shove, the mattress landed on the entryway floor.

From there, Flame dragged the cumbersome object on its side across the floor and down the hallway. When he had finally reached his destination, he let out a long breath with a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at his accomplishment. He then fished the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. However, before he entered, he decided to be a gentleman and knock. He heard a despondent voice answer to "come in." As Flame pushed open the door, he noticed Alice huddled in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest, shivering slightly. Flame felt a stab of guilt as he remembered that she was still wearing a threadbare whore's dress on a cold October night. She stared up at him with confusion, eyeing the mattress leaning against the wall in the hallway. Without saying a word, partially because he could not think of anything appropriate to say, Flame moved the mattress into the room and let it fall flat on the floor thus creating a cloud of dust. Alice coughed a little, but smiled slightly at the sight of something comfortable to sleep on. She glanced up with a quizzical look at the boy who took no qualms in espousing his distaste for her.

"Thank you," she whispered, still shocked by his act of generosity. Still, Flame said nothing and continued to contemplate how to help with the issue of the cold temperature in the room. Finally, he gave a sigh of resignation at what he knew he must do, and exited the room. He locked it behind him, just to make sure, and then ran up the stairs to his bunk. He rummaged through his stuff until he came upon a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt that were a bit small for him. He then pulled the top sheet from his bunk (he considered giving her his blanket… but let's be real, it was a cold night, and he wasn't a saint), and made his way back down the stairs. He unlocked the door and walked in, this time finding Alice casually curled up on the mattress. His face softened a bit, remembering for the first time in a long time that she was still just a girl, and felt pleased with himself at what he was offering to her.

Alice jumped with a start as Flame reentered the room, noticing that he carried a pile of cloth with him. Again, the strange boy said nothing and simply tossed the pile towards the mattress at her feet. Yet again, she shot him a curious stare. Flame glanced about the room awkwardly while nervously running a hand through his hair.

"Look, I guess ya haven't really done anything wrong… so there's no point in making ya suffer and catch ya death," he huffed, as if hating the fact that he was feeling compelled to be nice to her. Alice gave the ginger a lopsided grin.

"Thanks, Flame."

"Yeah… whatever," Flame mumbled while turning to walk out the door and lock it behind him. Alice almost laughed at Flame's obvious frustration with the fact that he just couldn't allow her to suffer. She stared down at the pile he'd thrown to her and began to sift through it to see what he'd given her. Alice felt a swell of gratitude as she took note of the warmer clothes and sheet. Not only would the clothes be a welcome change from the dress she'd been wearing for much too long, but they might also help stifle the shivering that had set in as night had taken over and the temperature had dropped. The sheet would also help ease the cold as she slept. She knew she respected Flame for a reason. With that thought, she quickly stripped (throwing the hateful corset across the room with fervor), and changed into her "new" clothes. Almost immediately, she felt much warmer and like she'd actually be able to sleep.

Alice spread the sheet out over the mattress, cut the light, and felt her way back over to the mattress as the room was now pitch dark. Just as she settled herself under the sheet and closed her eyes, her mind reeled with visions of splattered blood and shocked faces breathing their last repulsive breathes. She jerked her eyes open and realized that she was hyperventilating. Alice steadied herself by taking several large breathes and reminding herself of her reasons. Feeling less disturbed, she closed her eyes again and allowed herself to be carried into a restless sleep. However, she did not sleep long.

Alice groggily cut through the fog of her sleep… something was wrong. She felt much warmer than she should, even with the help of Flame's gifts. She could also feel something heavy weighing her down into the mattress, and her stomach flipped as she realized that whatever… or whoever… it was, was gently caressing her cheek with the back of its fingers.

She slowly opened her eyes, hoping to find that it was all her imagination. However, that was not to be the case. Once she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing into the admittedly handsome face of Ash, which was lit by the light of a candle he must have brought with him and placed somewhere nearby. He was still caressing her face and playing with stray locks of hair as he gazed down at her adoringly and Alice became humiliatingly aware of the fact that her legs were tangled with his. This was the most intimate position she'd ever found herself in with a man, and she was nauseated by the idea that she was sharing it with a deranged sociopath. Alice, feeling very wary of the situation as she was not armed this time, attempted not to make any sudden noises or movements. So far he wasn't hurting her, and she hoped to keep it that way. His eyes danced as he realized she was awake.

"Angel," he cooed, "did you miss me?" Alice gulped, and flashed Ash a hesitant smile.

"What are you doing here? The door was locked." Ash smirked.

"Did you really think I could be separated from ya by some lousy lock?" That still hadn't answered Alice's question, so she raised an eyebrow at him. He laughed warmly at her expression.

"I picked it, baby," he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "No one can keep us apart, not even Spot." Alice felt goose bumps rise all over her skin at this words, not knowing how seriously he meant for them to be taken.

"Look, Ash, I think maybe you misunderstood me last night," Alice began, trying to find a polite way to inform him that she had not meant to attract him with her double homicide. However, Ash immediately fell into a fit of laughter. Tears were coming from his eyes when he'd finally found some control, and he cupped her face with clear adoration.

"Oh, dollface, I'm not as crazy as ya think. I know that wasn't meant for me," he stated, with humor still tinged in his voice. Alice stared up in shock.

"Well… if you know… then why-?" Again, Ash chuckled to himself. He nuzzled into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, making Alice feel very uncomfortable. He picked his head back up and stared back down at her with a piercing and serious expression.

"Ya don't realize it yet, but we're made for each other." Alice began to protest but he silenced her with his fingers on her lips. "No no, it's my turn. I always felt like there was something dark inside ya… begging to get out, but I wasn't sure. Then… last night… ya blew me away. Beyond my wildest expectations!" Alice was so confused. She stared up at the unstable man with confusion etched all over her face. Ash noted it with an indulgent smile. "You're just like me, baby," he finished with obvious satisfaction. Alice felt disgusted by the idea of being compared to this demon.

"No I'm not!" Ash shook his head with clear amusement, as if she'd just told a bad joke.

"Aren't you?"

"No! I'm not like you at all! You're cold… and cruel… and dark," she claimed with fervor. Ash smirked at her description of him, nodding his head in unashamed agreement.

"And what are you?" he asked in an innocent tone. Alice started to answer, but tripped over her words. She had started to say that she was good and innocent… but that wasn't really true anymore. However, she had her reasons.

"I killed out of love, not cruelty," she hissed at Ash. Ash again shook his head, but this time without any humor.

"No, my love, I watched ya last night. And do ya know what I saw? I saw a dark, merciless, sultry creature from hell… and it was sexy, baby, the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he finished, with heat and lust building in his visage as he stared down at Alice, allowing the memory to replay in his head. Alice felt indignant at his description of her, and began to protest. But again, he stopped her.

"Alice, I know what ya gonna say. Ya gonna tell me that last night was just about protecting Olivia, but it wasn't. Ya could have shot us from the shadows right when we walked in, but ya didn't. Ya wanted to toy with us first. And ya did it expertly. Ya might have hesitated before blowing Sneer or Rascal's head in, but ya didn't. Ya were cold and felt nothing as ya pulled the trigger twice. And you'd have pulled it a third time had I sat there waiting for it. In fact, I think ya might have taken pleasure in it. Ya can't even claim that it was a moment of passion, because even you know that it wasn't. It was cold, calculated, merciless hate… with sex sprinkled on top. You, Alice, are just like me." Alice lay in stunned silence as his words sank in, and her eyes widened at the realization that they were correct. She could not argue with one thing he had said. But no, she thought urgently, she could not be like him. Alice was hit with a sudden sense of revulsion towards herself.

"No," Alice whispered while shaking her head back and forth as if in a nightmare, "no no no no no." Ash's features softened as he looked down at her with pity. He moved to hold her head still with his hand.

"Shhhh, baby… shhhh," he soothed, "Don't be ashamed. Ya just finally did what was natural to ya. Ya dark… and I like it." Alice's breath was constricted in her chest, and she felt as if she were suffocating. Her mind was spinning with everything she had done and Ash's hard-to-deny analysis of it. She gazed up at Ash with panic. Ash was still staring down at her while delicately licking his lips, the pad of his thumb was gently caressing her bottom lip, and his eyes now bored into hers with a hypnotizing effect. The longer she stared into them, the more under his spell she became. And, the more she lost herself to his deep gaze, the less constricted her chest felt. Yes, this felt right. Yes, she could do this… she could lose herself in this beautiful man. As if sensing her thoughts, Ash made his move. He crashed his lips into hers, moaning as Alice urgently responded. Yes, this was what he wanted. This was what he needed.

The kiss was long; it was reckless; it was electric. Alice felt her hands rise and shove roughly into his hair. She pulled his locks, causing Ash to hiss in pleasure at the roughness. Ash responded by shoving his hand up her shirt and scratching down the entire length of her spine harshly. Alice arched her back with a moan, echoing her actions on the tavern table the night before… before she'd killed.

The familiar movement caused Alice to come back to her right mind, and she immediately shoved Ash away. A look of confusion and dejection crossed his face as he landed on the floor next to the mattress.

"What, love?" Alice, at first, could not find her words. She simply shook her head back and forth wildly as she sat up and pulled her knees under her chin.

"I'm not your love, Ash. I can't love you… I won't love you." Ash looked truly pained, but began shaking his head as if he refused to believe her. "No, Ash. You repeatedly raped and beat my best friend," she continued, feeling bile rise in her throat at what she had just done… and at what she had almost done with Ash. Ash was adamant, however.

"And you killed my best friends. It's ok." Alice stared at him looking nonplussed.

"I killed your best friends, Ash. You should hate me." Ash looked at her, again, with devotion.

"No, I can't hate ya for being like me, just like ya can't hate me for being like you," he stated, as if it were the most evident logic in the world. Alice glared up at him.

"But I do hate you. And I'm nothing like you. Get out." At first, Ash looked as if he was being engulfed by rage, and Alice felt herself shrinking back in fear. However, as quickly as the rage came, it left. It was replaced by another smirk.

"Ya say that now, but ya know I'm right. And I know ya just felt what I just felt. This isn't over, Alice. Far from it. Ya were meant for me, and I won't let ya go. You'll embrace me and everything we are." With that, Ash rose to his feet, grabbed his candle, and walked to the door.

"Sweet dreams, my love," he called to her before shutting the door behind him, again shrouding her in darkness.

Alice let out a long shuddered breath, and felt herself begin to shake… but this time it wasn't from the cold. She had meant every word she had just said, yet she still could not deny that Ash's words taunted her and lingered within her mind. Was it possible that he was right? Was she truly dark at heart?

AN: much shorter chapter… but I felt like this was the place I would like to leave yall as this struggle is rather integral to the plot. I did not want to dilute it. Hope yall are enjoying it so far! Please review!


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